


Hidden in Plain Sight

by spacedestiny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexuality, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory, Mutual Pining, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacedestiny/pseuds/spacedestiny
Summary: Harry Potter had hoped that his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be uneventful for once. But he soon finds himself thrust into the spotlight yet again. As the second Hogwarts Champion in the Triwizard Tournament, Harry must deal with life threatening tasks, Rita Skeeter’s fraudulent journalism, and the wrath of his fellow students. But that’s not the worst part. He’s started developing feelings for his fellow champion: Cedric Diggory.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter
Comments: 15
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story features homophobic language that some may find uncomfortable. 
> 
> Also be warned that I am not British, but have tried to incorporate British slang and phrases to the best of my ability.

Harry felt as though he had barely laid down to sleep in Ron’s room when he was being shaken awake by Mrs. Weasley.

It took a few seconds of dazed blinking to remember why she was waking him. Today was the morning of the Quidditch World Cup. Harry’s lips broke into an excited grin as Mrs. Weasley went to wake Ron. And Ron turned out to be just as giddy as he was. They spoke in hushed, eager tones as they got ready, a palpable anticipation coursing through them. They’d been looking forward to this for weeks, and it was finally time to go. 

The two of them went downstairs to join the others. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys had a quick breakfast before setting off across the dark yard. It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, bluish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. The Portkey they needed was atop a steep hill. And after an arduous climb that left them all out of breath, they went about looking for it. 

“Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we’ve got it!” a voice suddenly called out.

Harry turned. There were two tall figures silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop. He couldn’t make them out from the darkness, but Mr. Weasley seemed to recognize them.

“Amos!” he said, smiling, and strode over to the man. The rest of them slowly followed. 

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with the wizard. He was tall, with a ruddy face and a short brown beard, and was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand. 

“This is Amos Diggory, everyone,” Mr. Weasley said brightly. “He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?” 

Harry blinked. It was Cedric Diggory, Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. He was tall and dark haired like his father, but that’s where the similarities ended. Unlike Amos, Cedric was very handsome. His chestnut colored hair was expertly tousled and he had striking gray eyes.

“Hi,” said Cedric, looking around at them all. 

His gaze first went to the twins, who stood beside their father, flickered over Ginny, Ron, Hermione — and then settled on Harry.

And that’s when it happened. A peculiar sensation bloomed inside of Harry as soon as those gray eyes met his. His body stiffened almost immediately, and there was a strange lurch in the region of Harry’s stomach, like he had suddenly begun to free fall in the air. But it was nothing compared to the way Harry’s chest squeezed when Cedric then gave him a friendly smile and an acknowledging nod.

Harry was so taken aback he couldn't form his mouth into a greeting in time, though he wasn’t alone. The twins nodded coolly. They obviously had the Quidditch match they’d lost fresh in their minds. But Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were polite enough to say hi back. And now Mr. Diggory and Mr. Weasley were talking again.

“Long walk, Arthur?” Amos Diggory asked. 

“Not too bad,” Mr. Weasley grinned. “We live just on the other side of the village there. You?” 

“Had to get up at two, didn’t we, Ced? I tell you, I’ll be glad when he’s got his Apparition test. Still … not complaining … Quidditch World Cup, wouldn’t miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy...” Amos Diggory peered around at the teens. “All these yours, Arthur?” 

“Oh no, only the redheads,” said Mr. Weasley. “This is Hermione, friend of Ron’s — and Harry, another friend—” 

“Merlin’s beard,” said Mr. Diggory, his eyes widening. “Harry? Harry Potter?” 

“Er — yeah,” Harry said awkwardly, as the man performed the familiar rake over his scar.

“Ced’s talked about you, of course!” Mr. Diggory beamed. “Told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, I said — Ced, that’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will.... You beat Harry Potter!” 

Harry couldn’t think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Cedric was now looking at his father with embarrassment. 

“Harry fell off his broom, Dad,” he mumbled. “I told you … it was an accident...” 

“Yes, but you didn’t fall off, did you?” said Amos good-naturedly, slapping his son on his back. “Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman … but the best man won, I’m sure Harry’d say the same, wouldn’t you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don’t need to be a genius to tell which one’s the better flier!”

Harry shuffled on his feet. Fred and George were scowling now, and everyone else besides the twins and Amos looked uncomfortable. 

Thankfully they were saved from this rather awkward moment by Mr. Weasley. He told them all to huddle around the Portkey. Harry began to move towards the Diggorys without much thought until he realized that Cedric stood on his left side.

“Get close, everyone,” Mr. Weasley said. “We all have to touch the Portkey, that’s all, a finger will do—”

They crowded together. Harry was now sandwiched between Cedric and Hermione, his finger pressed against the boot. He was suddenly overcome with a rush of emotions he’d never experienced outside the Quidditch field. His heart beat furiously in a heady mix of adrenaline and panic as he realized that it wasn’t the press of Hermione’s body that was setting his nerves aflame, but Cedric—

And then the Portkey activated. Harry felt as though his navel had been suddenly jerked forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Cedric and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his. They were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color, and then it was over. Harry’s feet hit solid ground, and he tumbled.

Harry looked up. At first it seemed like everybody but Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory had fallen, but then he felt a presence beside him. 

Cedric was still standing, and he was looking down at Harry with a smile and a hand extended. Harry reached up automatically without thinking. 

A shock flickered down Harry’s spine when the large, calloused hand wrapped around his own. He rose unsteadily to his feet.

“All right there, Harry?” Cedric asked.

Harry stared. Cedric’s eyes were crinkled as he grinned broadly at him. And Harry felt like he was truly appreciating Cedric’s looks for the first time. He was extremely handsome — and so unbelievably perfect that it took Harry’s breath away. But that wasn’t all. Harry was horribly conscious of the hand that was still wrapped around his own. And for some inexplicable reason, his face had begun to flush. 

And then Cedric’s mood shifted. 

His smile slowly fell, and he was looking at Harry in a way that was alert and so obviously  _ aware  _ of the strange energy between them.

Silently panicking, Harry pulled his hand away and stepped back as everyone else got up. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted, open plain. In front of them was a pair of grumpy-looking Ministry wizards. And after checking their names, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory began to lead the way across the pasture. 

Harry tried to catch up to Ron and Hermione, who were walking behind the twins and Ginny. But before he could, Cedric fell into step beside him. Every part of him tensed. But he resisted the urge to speed ahead. And now he and Cedric were strolling together, the two of them bringing up the rear of the group. 

“So…” Cedric began. “You’re supporting Ireland, right?”

He could feel Cedric’s gaze on the side of his face. Harry kept his eyes determinedly forwards. 

“Yeah,” he replied quietly.

It wasn’t like he was trying to be rude, but it felt like an unusual sort of shyness had overcome him. This was of course incredibly ridiculous. Harry had never been the self-conscious type. There was no reason he should be feeling this way.

But there was  _ something _ about Cedric Diggory that he couldn’t put his finger on. And whatever it was unnerved him...

He thought for a second that it might have to do with the age gap between them — Cedric was a bit older after all — but that was nonsense. Harry had never felt this way towards older students before. And besides, he was pretty close with the Weasley twins, who just so happened to be in Cedric’s year. 

“Well, no surprise there. Everyone knows Bulgaria’s chances are slim. Even with Krum, they haven’t a chance in hell of winning. Ireland’s lineup is too good,” Cedric said, his tone light and conversational. 

Harry, who couldn’t think of a reply and was starting to feel lamer by the second, nodded. 

“Sorry about earlier, by the way,” Cedric said in a hushed voice. “My dad can be a bit of a prick sometimes.”

Harry glanced at him. Cedric’s expression was apologetic, and one look into that face felt like Harry had been hit with a Confundus Charm. He blinked stupidly.

“Oh no, it’s fine,” he said. “I-I mean, I wasn’t offended or anything.”

Cedric smiled. It was the same smile he’d done earlier when he’d pulled Harry to his feet. His eyes crinkled and he flashed his perfect white teeth. Harry’s heart began to pick up speed once more.

“Thanks. You know, I tried telling him it was because of the dementors, but of course he ran with the idea that I beat you.” His expression was one of exasperation, but his tone was fond. And then he grinned at Harry. “I’m glad we cleared that up. I was worried for a second that you might’ve thought I’d been trash-talking you.”

Harry chuckled. He couldn’t help it, everything about Cedric was so disarmingly pleasant. He began to relax despite himself.

“You were probably going to beat me without the dementors anyway,” Harry muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I was barely catching up to you.”

“Maybe,” said Cedric. “But you’re still the better Seeker by far. I’m not as much of a natural in that position as you. When I first joined the Hufflepuff Team I was Chaser, you know.”

“Really?” asked Harry, surprised.

Cedric hummed in affirmation.

“Yep. Our last Seeker left, and we had a hard time replacing him. It’s not that simple finding a good Seeker, you see. Not everyone can play that position — takes a lot of natural talent — so we kept looking for any Hufflepuff who was decent. And we tried almost everyone, but they were all rubbish. So I thought I’d give it a shot, and turns out I’m alright. Next thing you know, I’m Hufflepuff Seeker,” Cedric smiled sunnily at him. “Of course I couldn’t get my hopes up or anything. I still knew my chances against you were shit.”

Harry laughed softly. He felt equal parts flattered and embarrassed. 

“Come off it, you’re not that bad,” Harry said. “And at least you didn’t buy your way into the team like Malfoy.”

Cedric shrugged. “I’m alright, I guess. But I’m not even second best. Cho Chang’s got me beat, and she’s only been flying for two years now.” He looked at Harry expectantly. “You know Cho, right? Seeker for Ravenclaw House? You played against her last year.”

Of course Harry knew who Cho was. Ever since last year’s game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, he’d grown a bit of a crush on her. Harry had found himself watching her around the castle with more frequency. But he knew he didn’t have a chance in hell. She was very pretty, and a year above him.

Still, Harry couldn’t help the spark of jealousy at the mention of her name. The way Cedric spoke of her, were they friendly?

“Yeah. You friends with her or something?” Harry asked casually.

“Well I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” Cedric clarified. “I don’t know her that well. But we get on alright. We talk about our favorite Quidditch teams sometimes.”

Harry nodded glumly. Cho and Cedric were on speaking terms, and he, Harry, had not even said hi to her yet. 

All talk about Cho ended there however, as Cedric soon began a discussion about his favorite Quidditch Team. And since Harry knew a good deal about the teams that made up the British and Irish Quidditch League — all thanks to Ron’s mentoring — he was able to keep up with little difficulty. 

Since Harry had now gotten over his initial discomfort, their conversation flowed so naturally that he was shocked he’d felt so bashful in the beginning. And Cedric, who Fred had once said was too thick to string two words together, turned out to have far more going for him than expected. He was surprisingly quick-witted and funny. There was a confident ease to him that had Harry hanging on to his every word. He cracked jokes that made Harry laugh, and every time Cedric would watch him, his mouth stretched in a pleased grin. 

However, there were moments where Harry thought he was staring a little more than was polite. But he couldn’t help it. Cedric was so handsome that he found himself admiring his perfect features every few minutes or so. And if Cedric noticed the way Harry’s eyes lingered on his face for longer than was appropriate, he didn’t let on. 

Their conversation came to a halt when their group stopped in front of a small stone cottage. Next to it was a gate, and beyond that, the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents came into view. Harry saw Mr. Diggory shaking hands with Mr. Weasley. He suddenly remembered that the Diggorys would have to part ways with them now, as they were assigned to the second field. 

“I guess it’s time to say goodbye now,” Cedric said. “It was nice talking with you.”

Harry turned. Cedric had extended his hand, a warm smile on his face. Harry grasped onto it.

“See you,” he grinned.

This time, he expected the tingling feeling as their skin touched again, but not the expression on Cedric’s face. Cedric’s smile slid off, and a more serious look replaced it. His gray eyes were searching, intense, as they stared into Harry’s own, and the scrutiny made Harry’s grin falter. And just like that, the tense atmosphere from before was back. He desperately wondered what Cedric was thinking, because the way he was looking so deeply at Harry was starting to make him fluster. He could feel his face start to flush again, his palms becoming clammy. And for a split second, Cedric’s large hand squeezed tighter around Harry’s own—

And then Cedric let go. He stepped over to where his father was still saying his goodbyes to Mr. Weasley, and together they walked off.

Harry exhaled slowly. He felt unbalanced and lightheaded, but then realized the others were now approaching the cottage door. He followed and spotted a Muggle man standing in the doorway. Mr. Weasley paid him for their reserved spot, and their group made their way towards the campsite. Harry walked up beside Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, hello, Harry,” said Hermione pleasantly. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

Ron sniggered, and Harry smiled sheepishly. He’d totally forgotten about them during the walk, only vaguely aware of the two of them shooting him and Cedric curious glances over their shoulder once or twice. 

“Never knew you and Diggory were friendly,” said Ron. 

It was an obvious attempt at fishing for details. They were both giving him a curious, and almost borderline look of awe. Harry knew they were wondering when he’d been on speaking terms with Cedric Diggory, one of the most popular and widely admired students at Hogwarts.

He himself wondered why Cedric chose to strike up a conversation with him. Sure, there was that Quidditch game from last year, but they had never spoken to one another. And yet Cedric had decided to treat Harry in a more considerate manner he hadn’t afforded the others, like smiling at Harry when greeting them earlier, and choosing to help him up when they’d all fallen over from the Portkey. Maybe it was because of Harry’s tendency to stand out compared to others, being famous and all. But still, he’d enjoyed the chance to speak with Cedric, probably more than he should have.

Harry shrugged. He didn’t feel like sharing much about the conversation between him and Cedric for some reason. It was completely irrational, but he wanted to keep the moment for himself. 

“We were just talking about Quidditch,” he said breezily.

Thankfully, Ron and Hermione didn’t ask any further, and instead chose to fall back onto their favorite pastime — quarrelling with one another. The two began squabbling over the merchandise they wanted to buy as Harry tuned them out. He was too busy replaying the way Cedric had said goodbye. Harry lingered on the feeling of that hand wrapped around his own, and the intensity behind those gray eyes as Cedric looked at him...

A delightful shiver ran down Harry’s spine.

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents, and finally reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field. And here was an empty space with a small sign hammered into the ground that read  _ Weezly. _

Now they had to set up the tents. But since none of the Weasleys knew how to do this without magic, it was up to Harry and Hermione to figure it out. They worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go while Mr. Weasley enthusiastically hammered them down with a mallet. Soon a pair of shabby two-man tents were erected. Then Mr. Weasley thought it best that Harry, Ron, and Hermione get some water located at a community tap nearby, so the three of them set off with empty kettles and saucepans.

As they strolled through the campgrounds, adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. They were watching a Ministry wizard chase a child on a toy broomstick when a familiar voice called out their names. It was Seamus Finnigan, his sandy-haired mother, and Dean Thomas sitting in front of a shamrock-covered tent. After a quick conversation they said their goodbyes and finally found the line for the tap.

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back. And now more familiar faces greeted them. Oliver Wood dragged Harry over to his parents’ tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Then they were roped into speaking with Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff. And after continuing on, spotted Cho Chang sitting in front of a tent with one of her friends from Hogwarts. It was the first time he’d seen her in Muggle attire — she was sporting a plain t-shirt and ripped jeans. Harry stared as he passed, and as if sensing his gaze, Cho looked up.

She smiled at him and waved. And yet again, for the second time today, his stomach felt like he’d been free-falling in the air. Harry had the misfortune of sloping some water down his front as he waved back. His face burned with shame as he hurried along, pointedly ignoring Ron’s knowing smirk.

When they got back to their camp, they found Mr. Weasley struggling to start a fire with a box of matches. Hermione went to help as Ron and Harry sat down beside Fred and George. 

“Can you believe this?” Fred grumbled as they watched Mr. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny try to coax the small flame higher. “We have an oven inside, but of course he insists on being a caveman.”

“What took you three so long?” asked George, turning to Harry and Ron.

They explained how they’d met several people along the way. The twins beamed at the news that Oliver had been signed, and laughed themselves silly when Ron told them about Harry’s reaction to Cho. Harry glared at him in betrayal.

“So you like Chang?” Fred asked after he’d finished chortling.

Harry knew his cheeks were burning for what felt like the hundredth time that day, but shrugged in an offhand manner.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. She’s far from a troll,” said George, elbowing Harry. “Loads of people like her.”

Though he knew this was meant to be comforting, Harry felt his mood drop. How had he been so stupid? He hadn’t considered the possibility that other blokes liked her too. But it made perfect sense. Cho was one of the prettiest girls in school, on the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team, and judging from the large friend group he’d always seen her surrounded by — quite popular. 

Ron and the twins were talking about the chances between either team. Harry hung back from this conversation — he didn’t know enough about national teams to participate — but pretended to listen. But he soon found his thoughts straying to how pretty Cho’d looked in Muggle clothing, and then inevitably … to Cedric.

This was the first time he was able to finally sit down and process what he felt towards Cedric Diggory. He remembered the thrill that went through him when they touched, the butterflies he felt every time Cedric smiled. 

It all lead to one conclusion. One that unnerved Harry to his very core.

He liked Cedric Diggory.

Harry didn’t want it to be true. But it was. He knew as soon as he came to this realization that he was right. He could feel it in his bones. He fancied Cedric, the same way he fancied girls. 

But wait...

Did this mean he was gay? 

Harry didn’t know much about what being gay entailed. He had never met a gay person in his life. And although he’d never given gay people enough thought to have an opinion, what little he knew was negative. The Dursleys did not like anything they deemed as out of the ordinary, homosexuality being one of such things. 

Uncle Vernon had always been especially vocal in his dislike for “queers” whenever the subject was brought up. And there was that one time Harry’d overheard Aunt Petunia gossiping on the phone about how Mrs.-so-and-so’s son was a “poof”. Even Dudley and his gang had occasionally taunted Harry (and other bullying victims) about “being a girl” or implying that Harry had a boyfriend. 

Harry had never thought in a million years he’d turn out to be gay. It just didn’t make any sense. He was a normal boy. He liked joking around with Ron and playing Quidditch. And he wasn’t girly. 

Sure, he spent a little more time grooming himself than most boys. He was always brushing his wild hair and making sure his appearance was neat. But it was only because growing up with the Dursleys meant he’d been left to take care of himself far earlier than most children, and had learned to be hyper aware of his appearance from being routinely scolded for it. Moreover, Harry only knew how to cook and clean so well because Aunt Petunia had always given him chores. 

But aside from that, he wasn’t so different from the other boys in his year. If any of them were gay, it would be someone like Neville, who was the most sensitive person Harry had ever met. But that was unlikely, Harry thought gloomily, judging by the way Neville was always mooning over Hermione. 

It was he, famous and well-respected Harry Potter, who’d turned out to be a queer. And shamefully, Harry couldn’t help the despair that settled inside him. He didn’t want to be gay. 

But surely this was a mistake? It had to be. After all, Harry liked girls. He liked their curves and their long hair, their pretty faces and the nice way they smelled. Surely that must count for something?

And why Cedric of all people? Yes, he was very handsome, but Harry had never really paid him much attention before today. After their match last year he’d only noticed him once or twice in passing at Hogwarts. This sudden infatuation hadn’t manifested those times.

But now there was _something_ about Cedric though … something that drew Harry in. From his looks to his personality to the unexplainable tension between them, Harry fancied Cedric. Cedric, who was the very opposite of everything Harry liked in girls. He was tall, well-built, and had a chiseled, masculine jaw. Liking him would definitely be considered gay.

But wait… If Harry actually fancied Cedric … wouldn’t he want to kiss and hold Cedric the way he dreamed to do with Cho? 

Harry had never in his life considered doing those things with another boy. Would it even appeal to him? A normal boy would surely be disgusted at even the thought of kissing another bloke. He fought to keep his face neutral as his mind conjured up an image of Cedric’s face getting closer...

Harry swallowed thickly, self loathing writhing within him as a pleasant tingle lit across his skin and his heart pounded with excitement.

That was undeniable proof, he thought dejectedly. He was definitely gay. 

He immediately began to wonder if he liked boys other than Cedric. After all, Harry did find girls other than Cho attractive, like Parvati Patil and Hannah Abbott for example, two girls he found his eyes straying towards on a few occasions.

He looked around at Ron who sat beside him, and looked at him — really looked at him for the first time in his life. Ron was not handsome like Cedric, with his freckled face and long nose, but he wasn’t ugly by any means. Harry imagined kissing him. But as soon as that thought entered his head, he felt a nauseous roll in his stomach. Ron was his friend. Hell, he was practically like family at this point. Harry couldn’t think of him like that. It felt wrong.

So instead he turned towards the twins. Fred was speaking animatedly, waving his hands around, as George argued back. Harry found himself being stopped short by a similar dilemma. The twins, like Ron, felt like pseudo-familial territory. And he had no desire to explore that any further.

Surely there was another boy that would confirm his suspicions? He thought about his fellow Gryffindors: Seamus, Dean, and Neville. They at least weren’t like family. But as he considered it, none of them held any appeal. Seamus was stocky, with a broad face that Harry did not find all that compelling. And though Dean was taller and better looking, he didn’t possess that spark to interest him. So that left Neville... 

Harry repressed a shudder. On second thought, he didn’t want to go down that road either.

But then as he was about to move on, he remembered the way Oliver Wood had grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to his parents’ tent. Harry considered him for a moment. He knew that objectively, Oliver was good looking, with his crooked grin and an athletic body Harry had always been appreciative of.

At Hogwarts, Harry had taken note of Oliver’s flawless body early on, and would sometimes sneak peeks at him changing in the locker room. Oliver was just built so differently than Harry — who was practically a bag of bones — that he had to marvel at the sight of such masculine perfection. He’d watch covertly when Oliver took off his sweaty shirt after practice to reveal a nicely toned physique. Harry would stare, almost hypnotized, at that firm chest, watch the way those muscles rippled and flexed—

He was torn out of his thoughts when a voice called out to them in the distance.

“Just Apparated, Dad,” said Percy loudly. He, Bill, and Charlie were strolling out of the woods towards them. “Ah, excellent, lunch!”

Mr. Weasley and Hermione were just starting to cook eggs. The older Weasley sons crowded around their father, and Percy started complaining about all the violations they’d seen others doing around the campgrounds.

Harry’s eyes immediately gravitated towards Bill, and recalled how surprised he’d been when first meeting the eldest Weasley son. From the proud way Mrs. Weasley always spoke of him, Harry had always imagined Bill to be an older version of Percy.

Oh, how wrong he’d been. 

Bill was the complete opposite of what Harry’d expected. He was  _ cool, _ with long hair tied back in a ponytail, one fang earring, and clothes that would not have looked out of place at a rock concert. But to Harry’s enormous distress, he slowly began to notice how good-looking Bill was, and the casual, confident manner he held himself. 

He’d initially chalked up his admiration of Bill to his sense of style — just like he’d always convinced himself that he'd only been envying Oliver’s body. 

But now that Harry knew he liked blokes, it was like he was seeing things clearly for the first time. Maybe he’d always been like this. Maybe he’d buried this part of him so deep that it hadn’t been unearthed until now.

But still, the way he felt towards Cho was way more intense. He wanted to hold her hand, to kiss her sweetly, to date her. He didn’t necessarily want to do the same with Parvati or Oliver. When Parvati visited his fantasies late at night, it was more about pressing their bodies together, not imagining holding a conversation with her like he did with Cho...

...like he had with Cedric.

Harry chewed on his tongue. He wanted more. He wanted to talk to Cedric about Quidditch and have those bright gray eyes focused on him. He wanted to see Cedric’s lips stretched into that eager grin of his whenever Harry laughed at one of his jokes. He wanted to be friends —  _ more _ than friends.

The food was finished cooking, and Harry pushed these thoughts away to focus back on Ron and the twins. They were all halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them. It turned out to be none other than Ludo Bagman, who was later joined by a severe looking Mr. Crouch. And then in no time the World Cup had begun. Harry hurried along with the others, excitement thrumming in his veins. 

It turned out to be everything Harry had expected and more. And to everyone’s great surprise, the game ended the way the twins had bet, with Krum catching the Snitch while Ireland took home the win. 

They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping. Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They stayed up late into the night replaying and arguing about the match, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor, that Mr. Weasley insisted that everyone go to bed. 

Hermione and Ginny went into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pajamas and clambered into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and partying going on.

Harry, who was on a top bunk above Ron, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of the dim lanterns flying overhead, and picturing some of Krum’s more spectacular moves. This day had been a memorable one indeed. And he was not just thinking about the game. 

Finding out that he was gay had to be one of the most unexpected things Harry’d ever gone through, which was something considering he’d sabatoged Lord Voldemort’s return to power, slain a basilisk, and freed a wanted criminal. 

It was still a shock to him. Harry had only ever liked girls for as long as he could remember. He’d fancied a few of the Muggle girls in primary school. And when he’d begun entering adolescence sometime over the course of the past year, girls had become more interesting than ever before. Now he’d started to notice how Parvati Patil’s body had filled out nicely over the summer, and the way Hannah Abbott’s shy smile was rather endearing.

He liked girls. He really did.

But he also liked boys, and this was hard to reconcile.

At least he wasn’t all the way gay, Harry thought in relief. There was still the option of being somewhat normal. If he didn’t tell anyone, didn’t breathe this to a single soul, he could pretend this side of him didn’t exist. It probably wouldn’t even be that difficult.

Because sure, blokes had sturdy bodies and muscular arms that Harry found attractive, but he also liked girls and their soft curves. He would still be happy with a girl like Cho, he was sure of it. 

But then Cedric’s face swam into his mind, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure.

Whatever, he thought irritably, turning over and closing his eyes. It wasn’t like he had a chance with Cedric anyways. Cedric wasn’t a queer like Harry. In fact, he’d probably be disgusted to know that Harry fancied him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had to put all thoughts about his sexuality on pause, for the night of the Quidditch World Cup took a rather frightening turn. No sooner had he fallen into a troubled sleep did he find himself waking to screaming and chaos. The return of the Death Eaters and the Dark Mark had been a jarring experience, and it was all they talked about for several days afterwards. 

But since it was the last week of summer holiday, they were all determined to get the most of it. Harry and the Weasleys spent hours on the Burrow yard playing Quidditch. This of course should’ve left him with little time to think about Cedric, but to his great frustration, he still somehow managed. Harry constantly found his thoughts drifting towards the Hufflepuff as he brushed his teeth, or ate lunch, or before he fell asleep.

He’d tried, really tried not to think about Cedric Diggory. But his mind seemed determined to replay images of Cedric’s dreamy eyes or his wonderful smile. So after a while, he’d just given up and accepted it. He truly did fancy Cedric. And it seemed like that wasn’t changing any time soon.

But honestly, he couldn’t believe he was mooning over a bloke. Maybe Dudley had been on to something every time he’d called Harry a girl.

It could be worse, Harry thought one afternoon, watching the clouds drift along the sky as he lazed about on the grass with Ron and Hermione. At least he hadn’t fallen for someone like Malfoy. Now that would really be cause for alarm.

Still there was one thing Harry wanted desperately — the chance to talk to someone about all of this. The urge to get this off his chest was almost unbearable. But it wasn’t like he could tell Hermione and Ron he was gay. The thought of them ever finding out made him almost physically ill. It would change everything between them. The dynamics of their friendship would never be the same, and more specifically, his and Ron’s relationship. 

Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew no boy in his right mind would want a queer for a best friend. Him being gay would make Ron second guess every interaction they’d had, from changing in front of one another to every casual touch. But most importantly, Harry was terrified of seeing the look of discomfort, or even disgust, on Ron’s face. 

The week soon came to an end. Harry woke early on the first day of September. It was raining heavily against the window as he put on jeans and a sweatshirt, taking extra care to avert his gaze as Ron undressed. When they went downstairs, they were greeted by the unusual sight of Amos Diggory’s head in the fireplace blabbering about how Mr. Weasley needed to check up on Mad-Eye Moody. The paranoid Auror had apparently been jinxing dustbins because he’d believed an intruder had entered his property. Mr. Weasley left to sort it out.

Mrs. Weasley ordered a few taxis to transport them to King’s Cross Station. Her, Bill, and Charlie waved them goodbye, but not before giving them a few cryptic remarks about whatever Ministry event was being held at Hogwarts. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione found an empty compartment. And after they’d finished the Cauldron Cakes Harry’d bought from the lunch trolley, their fellow Gryffindors Seamus, Dean, and Neville came to talk about the Cup match. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. He and Dean were reliving every moment from the match as Neville listened with jealousy.

“Gran didn’t want to go,” he said miserably. “Wouldn’t buy tickets. It sounded amazing though.”

But as Dean raved about how Krum had pulled off the Wronski Feint, the door slid open again. It was Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. There was an annoyingly superior air to him. Unlike them, he knew about whatever event was being held at Hogwarts.

“Are you going to enter?” Malfoy asked haughtily. “I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?”

“Either explain what you’re on about or go away, Malfoy,” said Hermione.

A look of glee spread across Malfoy’s face. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know?” he said delightedly. He let out a laugh and turned to Ron. “You’ve got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don’t even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago ... heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father’s always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father’s too junior to know about it, Weasley ... yes ... they probably don’t talk about important stuff in front of him...”

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them left. Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding door so hard that the glass shattered.

Soon after, the train finally came to a stop. They greeted Hagrid as he corralled the first years to the boats by the lake, and then inched along the dark platform towards the horseless carriages outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed into one of them, and a few moments later the long procession of carriages steadily made its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.

They walked inside the main entrance, and were greeted by an impromptu water balloon attack by Peeves. After Professor McGonagall chased him out, everyone made their way into the Great Hall, and sat down at their House tables. Ron was in a bad mood. Peeves had dropped a balloon directly on his head. As Hermione chastised his furious cursing of the Poltergeist, Harry’s gaze turned towards the Hufflepuffs, whose table was right next to theirs. His heart began to pound with anticipation as his eyes raked across them, searching. 

And he found him. 

Cedric was sitting with a group of his sixth year friends not too far away. He looked radiant. His hair was damp from the rain and his eyes were even more dazzling beneath the gleaming light of the candles floating above. Him and his group of friends looked like they were having fun. Harry watched as Cedric laughed and playfully shoved another boy sitting beside him. 

Harry couldn’t watch him for long, as he was soon distracted by Colin Creevey, who excitedly told him to watch out for his brother Dennis’s sorting. And then Professor McGonagall came in leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. The Sorting Hat bellowed a song, and then they all watched the ceremony begin. One by one, terrified first years would sit upon a stool as the Sorting Hat decided on their House. Harry clapped along with everyone else at his table when someone was sorted into Gryffindor. 

The feast finally began, and after it ended Dumbledore got to his feet. And as he started to announce the event that was taking place at Hogwarts, Mad-Eye Moody made a very dramatic late entrance. Everyone stared as he took a seat among the professors. But when Dumbledore told them that the Triwizard Tournament would be held this year, the Great Hall burst into excited chatter at once. 

Over the next few weeks, Harry was too absorbed in classes to spare the tournament that much thought. There was just so much going on that demanded his attention, like Malfoy being turned into a ferret, Moody’s interesting Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, and Hermione forcing him and Ron to join S.P.E.W.

But one day when they arrived in the entrance hall, they found a large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. The three of them stopped to read it. The sign detailed that the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving on the 30th of October.

“Only a week away!” said Ernie Macmillan excitedly, emerging from the crowd. “I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I’ll go and tell him...”

Harry watched him hurry off, his lips pressed tightly to prevent himself from scowling. 

Cedric Diggory had become a sore point for him. They hadn’t spoken since they’d first talked at the World Cup, and Harry'd come to grips with the fact that it would most likely be the last. 

It was hard to remind himself that Cedric owed him nothing. They weren’t friends. Hell, they weren’t even Housemates. Even that git Ernie had that over him. 

He and Cedric had only shared a brief, polite talk about Quidditch once. That was all it’d been. It wasn’t like they were ever meant to be the best of friends anyways. Cedric was two years above him and from another House. He also had a large group of friends his own age. What would he ever want with Harry’s awkward, dorky self? There was nothing special about him that would make someone like Cedric seek him out. Cedric was popular, and had loads of more interesting people vying for his attention. 

Still, no matter how much Harry told himself this, it hadn’t tempered his frustration every time his gaze landed on the Hufflepuff table.

“Cedric?” said Ron blankly.

“Diggory,” Harry said in a carefully neutral tone. “He must be entering the tournament.”

“Oh. Right,” said Ron as they pushed their way through the crowd toward the staircase. “But come on. That idiot, Hogwarts champion?” 

“He’s not an idiot. You just don’t like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch,” said Hermione. “I’ve heard he’s a really good student — and he’s a prefect.”

“You only like him because he’s  _ handsome,” _ Ron shot back. 

“Excuse me, I don’t like people just because they’re handsome!” said Hermione indignantly, though the way she flushed made her statement appear decidedly less convincing. 

During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying about who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves. 

And finally it was the 30th. The whole school stood outside to greet their visitors, shivering in the chilly evening air.

The Beauxbatons delegation arrived first on a gigantic horse-drawn carriage the size of a large house. It was pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, each as big as an elephant. The headmistress exited first. She towered above everyone, about twice as tall as the average man.

Harry couldn’t help but get the impression that the Beauxbatons students seemed like a rather snobbish lot. They strolled behind their Hagrid-sized headmistress in light blue robes and haughty, unimpressed expressions. After Madame Maxime greeted Dumbledore, they all followed her inside the castle, leaving everyone else to wait for Durmstrang. 

And to everyone’s shock, a ship came bursting out of the lake. It anchored on the shallow end, and the Durmstrang students disembarked off a plank. Harry noticed they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. The man leading them, Karkaroff, also greeted Dumbledore, though his friendly smile didn’t seem to reach his cold, shrewd eyes. But when they caught sight of one the students he beckoned forwards, the school broke out into excited chatter. It was none other than Victor Krum.

“I don’t believe it!” Ron hissed, tugging Harry’s sleeve as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. “Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!”

“For heaven’s sake, Ron, he’s only a Quidditch player,” said Hermione. 

_ “Only a Quidditch player?” _ Ron repeated, looking at her in disbelief. “Hermione — he’s one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!”

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. The students from Beauxbatons had already chosen to sit at the Ravenclaw table, but the Durmstrang students hung back at the doorway, unsure of where to sit. Ron watched them hopefully, but Viktor Krum and his fellow schoolmates settled themselves at the Slytherin table.

Dumbledore welcomed their visitors before inviting them all to feast. The plates in front of them filled with food as usual, but there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that seemed foreign. 

As he and his friends were in the middle of their dinner, a soft voice interrupted them. 

“Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?”

It was one of the Beauxbatons girls. But she was unlike any girl Harry had ever seen before. There was an otherworldly, fey-like beauty to her. With her dollish features, waist-length silver blonde hair, and deep blue eyes, she reminded Harry of a pixie. 

The girl had initially been addressing Ron. But when he went scarlet and stared at her in a sort of trance, she turned to Harry instead.

“No. You can have it,” said Harry, pushing the dish toward her.

She took the plate and left, but Ron continued to ogle at her. Harry laughed at his dumbfounded expression. 

“She’s a veela!” Ron said hoarsely.

“Of course she isn’t!” Hermione snapped. “I don’t see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!”

This wasn’t entirely true. As the girl crossed the Hall, many of the boys’ heads turned. A few of them appeared to have become temporarily speechless like Ron. Even Malfoy was looking at her with his mouth ajar, though this didn’t seem to make Pansy Parkinson — who sat beside him — all that happy.

“I’m telling you, that’s not a normal girl!” said Ron, craning his neck to get a better look as she settled back into her seat. “They don’t make them like that at Hogwarts!”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t see what all the fuss was about. She was very pretty if you were really into blondes, he supposed. “They make them okay at Hogwarts.” 

His gaze settled on Cho, who happened to be sitting only a few places away from the girl with the silvery hair. The contrast between them was like night and day, with Cho’s jet-black hair shimmering beneath the candlelight. She was not as beautiful as the veela-girl, but Harry had to admit he found Cho’s modest charm much more alluring. 

Harry frowned. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t noticed Cho or her beauty for some time. It felt like ages since he’d last peeked over at the Ravenclaw table.

With mounting dread, Harry realized that he hadn’t spared Cho a single glance since returning to Hogwarts. For two solid months, he hadn’t bothered to look in her direction. Cho, his supposed  _ crush. _

Harry watched as Cho tossed her hair over her shoulder as she spoke to one of her friends. She didn’t look any different from a few months ago when he’d believed her to be his dream girl. But now he was surprised at the lack of butterflies in his stomach as he gazed upon her. Somehow, without him knowing, his feelings for her had coolled. 

And Harry had a horrible feeling he knew why. 

Someone else had managed to worm their way into his heart. Instead of pining after Cho, he’d been too busy sneaking glances at  _ Cedric. _

Harry suddenly felt the heat of someone’s gaze on him. He turned to look. 

Cedric was watching him. 

His lips were set in a thoughtful frown, and his brows were furrowed slightly. But it didn’t seem like Cedric had meant to be caught staring, however. His expression immediately shifted from one of intense concentration to embarrassment. He looked away at once.

Harry blinked. He watched Cedric fall back into conversation with the boy beside him. But before Harry could process what had happened, Hermione was pointing at the staff table, telling them to look at who’d just arrived.

Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff’s other side, while Mr. Crouch was seated next to Madame Maxime. As her and Ron began discussing their roles in the tournament, Harry shot another glance back at Cedric, but he didn’t look up again. 

Ron was still going on about that Beauxbatons girl as they ate dessert. 

“—never seen a girl this pretty in my life,” he was saying in a hushed voice to Harry, careful not to let Hermione hear. “Not much meat on her bones, but still… She’s a ten if I’ve ever seen one.”

Harry watched her idly. With her willowy frame and delicate features, she was the kind of person that wouldn’t look out of place on a runway. She was lovely without a doubt, but Harry didn’t find her all that interesting. Her looks reminded him of the girls on the magazines Dudley hid in his closet. 

“She’s not really my type,” he admitted.

Ron stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“What do you mean she’s not your type?” he said incredulously. “Look, I know you fancy Chang, but she doesn’t look like  _ that.” _

Harry shoveled some pie in his mouth. Truthfully, he hadn’t been comparing her to Cho, but to a certain Hufflepuff. A certain  _ male  _ Hufflepuff.

The Beauxbatons girl was unquestionably beautiful, but her looks were too cookie-cutter for Harry's taste. A pretty blonde girl didn’t seem all that special, particularly in comparison to Cedric’s immaculate bone structure. Cedric, whose sharp jawline and cheekbones made Harry’s blood sing with want. The Beauxbatons girl was beautiful, but Cedric was  _ breathtaking.  _

Dumbledore stood again after the feast came to an end. He started to talk about the tournament. There would be three tasks spaced throughout the school year. Each school would have one person of age to represent them. Anyone wishing to compete would have twenty-four hours to place their names in the Goblet of Fire. He then wished them all goodnight. 

The next morning turned out to be rather interesting indeed. Fred and George Weasley took an aging potion that would supposedly make them a few months older. They stepped passed the goblet line, seemingly triumphant at first, until things took a turn. There was a loud sizzling sound and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle. They landed ten feet away, each sprouting a long white beard. Laughter rang through the hall as they went off to the hospital wing.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione strolled over to the Gryffindor table and sat by Dean and Seamus, who were speculating about what Hogwarts students had entered.

“There’s a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in,” Dean told them. “That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth.”

Harry and Ron shared horrified looks at the thought of having a Slytherin champion. 

“And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory,” Seamus scoffed. “But I wouldn’t have thought he’d have wanted to risk his good looks.”

Hermione gave him a withering look. Ron caught this.

“Careful, Seamus,” he said. “You shouldn’t talk bad about Diggory or Hermione’ll come for your head.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Hermione. 

Seamus, Dean, and Ron laughed. Harry on the other hand privately agreed with her. It seemed like much of the male student body disliked Cedric, which he thought was unfair. Cedric couldn’t help being good-looking. The likes of Seamus and Ron were judging him superficially. But he didn’t say anything, and instead grabbed some toast.

Angelina Johnson came into the Great Hall and sat beside them. She’d apparently just put her name in the goblet. They all congratulated her.

“Well, I’m glad someone from Gryffindor’s entering,” Hermione beamed. “I really hope you get it, Angelina!”

“Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory,” said Seamus. 

This time, Harry couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

When they finished breakfast, the three of them decided to go visit Hagrid. Hermione was excited at the chance of recruiting him to join S.P.E.W. When they arrived at the gamekeeper’s hut, they were lost for words at the sight of Hagrid’s choice of attire. He was wearing an ugly brown suit, a checked yellow-and-orange tie, and his hair was greased back. He beckoned them inside. 

It turned out that Hagrid was not so keen on the idea of S.P.E.W. He flat out told her it was a lost cause, and how being free went against the nature of most house elves. Hermione sadly tucked her badges back into her bag.

The reason for his bizarre appearance became obvious when Hagrid later abandoned them to run after Madam Maxime. 

“He fancies her!” said Ron, astonished. “Well, if they end up having children, they’ll be setting a world record — bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton.” 

They made their way back towards Gryffindor tower. But as they walked through the main corridor, Harry spotted Cedric strolling down the other end of the hall, flanked by a large group of friends. People passing him were calling out his name and wishing him luck. He smiled and waved at one or two of them. Harry even saw Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbott giving him their well wishes. Cedric grinned at them.

Ron made a noise of disgust as Cedric and his friends neared. Harry quickened his pace, determined to pass by as inconspicuous as possible. But as they got closer, Hermione seemed to have other plans.

“Good luck, Cedric!” she called out, a slight tremor to her voice.

Cedric heard her and looked up. 

“Thanks,” he grinned.

Hermione went pink. But Harry saw those gray eyes quickly pass over her, and flicker over to him.

Mercifully, the brief moment they held each other’s gaze was quick. Cedric and his friends passed while Harry continued on with Hermione and Ron in the opposite direction. It took a few more seconds for him to realize he’d been holding his breath. Harry slowly inhaled.

Ron turned to Hermione with narrowed eyes. “I could’ve sworn you were supporting Angelina.” 

Hermione blushed deeper. 

The three of them lounged about in the Common Room until it was finally time for the Halloween feast. They proceeded through the portrait and made their way to the Great Hall. 

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Harry didn’t care for the extravagantly prepared food as much as he would have normally. Most people seemed to have the same mindset, judging by the impatient expressions on every face and the constant craning of necks to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet. 

Finally, when the golden plates were cleared, a hush fell over the room as Dumbledore got to his feet. 

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” said Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” — he pointed at the door behind the staff table — “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

They waited in complete silence, until the flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught it.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read in a clear voice, “will be Viktor Krum.”

“No surprises there!” yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall.

Harry watched as Krum rose from the Slytherin table and quickly made his way toward Dumbledore. Karkaroff was grinning widely. 

“Bravo, Viktor!” boomed Karkaroff over all the applause. “Knew you had it in you!” 

Krum passed the staff table and disappeared through the door into the next chamber. The applause died down, and everyone’s attention focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour!”

It was the veela-girl Ron had taken a fancy to. She got up gracefully, a radiant smile on her face, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, her silvery hair flowing behind her.

When Fleur Delacour had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with tension you could almost taste it. It was finally time to unveil the Hogwarts champion. 

Hermione had her fingers crossed. “Oh, please be Angelina!” she squealed. 

Ron on the other hand was fervently chanting “not Diggory” under his breath.

Harry felt conflicted. He knew he should support Angelina, who was a fellow Gryffindor and someone he considered a friend. But he would be lying if he didn’t have someone else in mind...

The Goblet of Fire turned red once more. Sparks showered out of it, and it expelled the third piece of parchment. 

“The Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore called, “...is Cedric Diggory!”

“No!” Ron moaned. But nobody heard him except Harry. The uproar from the Hufflepuff table was too loud. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric got up, grinning broadly.

Harry, Hermione, and many of their fellow Gryffindors applauded exuberantly as Cedric walked between their table and the Hufflepuffs towards the staff table. Harry couldn’t help but notice how wonderful Cedric looked as he passed, with his eyes bright and face flushed with joy. Cedric headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers’ table, the deafening applause continuing even after he’d disappeared. It took some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore said happily. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—” 

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and the reason for this was soon made clear.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and a fourth piece of parchment flew out.

Dumbledore caught it automatically. He stared down at it for a long time, his expression serious. There was dead silence as everyone waited on baited breath. Dumbledore finally looked up and cleared his throat.

“Harry Potter.”

Harry sat there, stunned beyond belief, as every head in the Great Hall turned to look at him. He felt numb. He had to be dreaming. This couldn’t be happening—

He dimly registered that Professor McGonagall had got to her feet to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly. This helped jog him out of his stupor, and he turned to his friends. They, alongside the rest of the Gryffindor table, were staring at him open-mouthed.

“I didn’t put my name in,” Harry said desperately. “You know I didn’t.”

Neither Ron or Hermione’s expression changed. They continued to stare back at him blankly.

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore called again. “Harry! Up here, if you please!”

But Harry couldn’t move. His muscles refused to obey. It was only until Hermione gave him a slight push and a look of encouragement did he come back to his senses.

“Go on,” she whispered.

Harry got up, stumbling slightly, and began walking towards the staff table. He was acutely aware of the hundreds of eyes fixed upon him. He stopped in front of Dumbledore.

But Dumbledore only gestured to the door the champions had disappeared in. 

“Well ... through the door, Harry,” said Dumbledore without his usual smile.

Harry went through the door and found himself in a smaller room lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him. Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around it.

The three of them made for an impressive sight. Krum leaned against the mantelpiece, arms crossed and brooding. Fleur looked effortlessly beautiful with her hands clasped daintily in front of her. And Cedric was the picture of handsome ease, his arms behind his back as he stared into the fire. They all looked up when he entered.

“What is it?” Fleur said. “Do zey want us back in ze Hall?”

Oh. She thought he’d been sent to deliver a message. But before he could fumble out an explanation, he heard footsteps behind him.

Ludo Bagman entered. He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, beaming.

“Extraordinary!” he said. “Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen ... lady,” he added with a tip of his head to Fleur. “May I introduce — incredible though it may seem — the fourth Triwizard champion?”

All three champions stared back at him with blank expressions for a moment. Then Fleur Delacour tossed her hair, smiling, and said, “Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman.” 

“Joke?” Bagman repeated. “No, no, not at all! Harry’s name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!”

Fleur frowned. Krum studied Harry darkly. And Cedric, Harry anxiously noted, had a look of polite bewilderment on his face. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said.

“But evidently zair ’as been a mistake,” Fleur said sharply. “ ’E cannot compete. ’E is too young.”

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Dumbledore, followed by Mr. Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, McGonagall, and Snape.

As Harry expected, Karkaroff and Maxime were outraged. And even more predictably, Snape tried to place the blame squarely on Harry’s shoulders. Dumbledore asked if he’d put his name in the goblet, or had an older student do so on his behalf. Harry vehemently denied it. 

Karkaroff then tried to appeal to Mr. Crouch and Bagman. But to both his and Harry’s dismay, Crouch made it clear that Harry would have to participate in the tournament. 

“How this situation arose, we do not know,” said Dumbledore at last, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. “It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do...”

“But Dumbly-dorr—”

“My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it.”

Madame Maxime pursed her lips. She wasn’t the only one who was furious. Karkaroff’s fists were clenched. Snape’s lip was curled. Krum’s mouth was set in a scowl. Fleur wasn’t even looking at Dumbledore, and was instead glaring at Harry. 

Harry chanced a glance at Cedric. Cedric was looking at Dumbledore with a displeased expression on his face. Harry quickly turned away.

Mr. Crouch told them that the first task would take place on November the twenty-fourth. Then they were dismissed. Madame Maxime and Fleur were first to leave, followed shortly by Karkaroff and Krum. Dumbledore turned to the two remaining students.

“Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise.”

Harry glanced at Cedric, who gave the headmaster a nod, and they left the room together. 

The Great Hall was deserted now, and the silence between him and Cedric as they strolled towards the entrance hall felt unbearable. A million thoughts were soaring through Harry’s head. How had this happened? Who put his name in the goblet? And what was Cedric thinking?

“So … tell me...” said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall. “How  _ did _ you get your name in?”

The two of them stopped. Harry looked up at him, and was dismayed to see the stiff smile on Cedric’s face. 

“I didn’t,” said Harry in his most convincing tone. It felt necessary that Cedric know he wasn’t a cheat, that he hadn’t tried to steal his moment in the spotlight. “I didn’t put it in. I was telling the truth.” 

“Ah ... okay,” said Cedric in a careful tone. Harry’s heart sank. He could tell Cedric didn’t believe him. “Well ... see you, then.”

And without another word, he turned and headed down the corridor. Harry watched him go, a heavy lump settling in his throat. And then, with his head down, slowly started to climb the marble staircase.

Loud cheering blasted his ears when the portrait opened. Next thing he knew, he was being pulled inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling. 

“You should’ve told us you’d entered!” yelled Fred.

His fellow Gryffindors were in the mood to celebrate. All Harry wanted to do was turn in for the night, but it was ages before he was able to extricate himself from the many hugs, head pats, and hand shakes that came his way. Harry managed to shake everyone off by insisting that he needed to sleep, and climbed up to the dormitory.

To his great relief, he found inside Ron lying on his bed. Now was the perfect time to vent. Ron looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him.

“Where’ve you been?” Harry said bitterly.

“Oh hello,” said Ron. 

Harry paused, frowning at his strange tone. 

Ron was grinning, but it was a strained sort of grin, like the one Cedric had given him earlier. 

“So,” Ron said. “Congratulations.”

“What d’you mean, congratulations?” said Harry. 

“Well ... no one else got across the Age Line,” said Ron. “Not even Fred and George. What did you use — the Invisibility Cloak?”

“The Invisibility Cloak wouldn’t have got me over that line,” Harry said slowly.

And then as Ron kept insisting that Harry tell him the truth, he felt his temper flare up.

“I didn’t put my name in that goblet!” Harry snarled.

“Yeah, okay,” said Ron, in the same skeptical tone as Cedric. “Only you said this morning you’d have done it last night, and no one would’ve seen you.... I’m not stupid, you know.” 

“You’re doing a really good impression of it,” Harry snapped.

“Yeah?” said Ron, and there was no trace of the forced grin on his face now. “You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you’ll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something.”

He wrenched the curtains shut around his four-poster bed, leaving Harry standing there for a long time, wondering how all of this had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to keep to canon for the most part here, sorry. But I promise the plot will start to pick up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to express my thanks for all the supporting comments and kudos. It means a lot to know people are appreciating my story <3

Harry woke up on Sunday morning intending to talk to Ron. He ripped back the curtains of his own four-poster bed, ready to force Ron to believe him — only to find that Ron’s bed was empty. It seemed like he’d already gone down to breakfast.

Harry dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The moment he appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. He grimaced and pushed open the portrait hole, and found himself face-to-face with Hermione.

“Hello,” she said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. “I brought you this... Want to go for a walk?”

Feeling grateful that he wouldn’t have to brave the Great Hall, Harry agreed. They went downstairs, crossing the entrance hall quickly, and ignored the occasional stares and whispers that followed them. 

The two of them strode across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Harry told Hermione exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before. To his immense relief, Hermione accepted his story without question. 

“Well, of course I knew you hadn’t entered yourself,” she said when he’d finished. “The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in? I don’t think any student could have done it ... they’d never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore’s—”

“Have you seen Ron?” Harry interrupted. 

Hermione suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Erm … yes ... he was at breakfast,” she said.

“Does he still think I entered myself?”

“Well ... no, I don’t think so ... not really,” said Hermione awkwardly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh Harry, isn’t it obvious?” Hermione said. “He’s jealous!”

Harry was astonished. He didn’t know how Ron could be jealous of being entered into a dangerous tournament, and told Hermione just that. But she insisted that Ron was acting out from years of being shunted to the side when it came to Harry and his own brothers. 

A part of him empathised with what Ron was going through, he really did. Harry too had grown up being overshadowed by Dudley, but that didn’t mean Harry was responsible for soothing Ron’s ego. He told Hermione he wasn’t running around after Ron, and was adamant that since it wasn’t he who’d started this fight, Ron needed to be the one to apologize.

“It’s bad enough that Cedric thinks I’m a cheat too,” Harry said as they walked on the damp grass. “You know he asked how I put my name in? He really thinks I did it.”

He knew Cedric’s lack of faith was expected, but it’d still come as a heavy blow. Harry had trouble falling asleep last night because he couldn’t get Cedric’s face out of his head. 

“He’s not the only one,” said Hermione. “The whole school thinks you tricked the Goblet. And — um, I don’t think they’re all that happy with you.”

Harry looked at her worriedly. “How bad is it?” 

Hermione winced. “Well, let’s just say Ernie Macmillan came up to me earlier and had a few choice words to say about you.”

Harry exhaled sharply. “That git,” he muttered.

“All the Hufflepuffs are livid. They think you stole Cedric’s thunder,” said Hermione. “The Slytherins seem to agree, but no surprise there, they’ve always hated you. And the Ravenclaws…”

Harry had hoped the Ravenclaws would find it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric, but judging by the look on Hermione’s face, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Great,” he said miserably. “Just great.”

In a bid to distract him, Hermione told him to go write to Sirius. The two of them went to the owlery, and after Harry scribbled a hasty note explaining the situation, they walked back outside. They decided to lounge around on the grounds until lunch. Harry lay down on the grass, sighing heavily as Hermione sat cross-legged beside him.

“The way they look at me, you’d think I was a Blast-Ended Skrewt,” said Harry, recalling the group of Hufflepuff girls who’d glared at him a few minutes prior. “I really hope people don’t hate me for the rest of the year.”

“Well it’s not like you don’t have any experience in that department,” said Hermione half-jokingly.

Harry snorted. He’d never forget the time in his second year when people believed him to be the Heir of Slytherin. The crowds used to part like the Red Sea and he couldn’t go a day without dozens of frightened glances in his direction.

He tried not to think about the fact that Ron had been on his side then. 

They sat there until it was time for lunch. Harry did not want to go, but Hermione told him he’d have to show his face eventually. The two of them set off for the Great Hall. 

But when they walked towards Gryffindor table, many of his fellow Housemates burst into applause again. Fred and George Weasley were even wolf whistling. The sound of the Gryffindors celebrating his arrival cut across the entire room. All the other Houses stopped speaking and glared at the whole lot of them.

Face burning, Harry followed Hermione to sit down beside Dean and Seamus. 

“There’s our champion!” Seamus said happily. “We missed you at breakfast.”

“You should’ve been here this morning,” said Dean, grinning. “The twins set off fireworks in your honor, and Lee was waving a huge Gryffindor banner. It really pissed off the Hufflepuffs. Diggory’s mates even tried to jinx them.”

Harry groaned. Hermione rubbed his back soothingly. 

As he ate lunch, he couldn’t help but notice Ron sitting on the other end of the table with Neville. He pursed his lips and looked away at once. 

He also noticed Cedric seated at the Hufflepuff table. Cedric didn’t look upset like he had yesterday. In fact, he was smiling at his friends like normal. Harry watched him for a while, mouth set in a frown.

“You should talk to him,” Hermione said suddenly. 

Harry almost jumped. “Who?”

“Cedric,” said Hermione. She’d obviously caught him staring. 

Harry sighed. “I can’t do that. He thinks I’m a cheat, remember?”

“Well I think you should talk to him and explain what happened. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Yeah right, Harry thought darkly. She hadn’t seen Cedric’s face yesterday. And besides, even if he wanted to approach him, Cedric was always surrounded by friends and admirers. He’d probably get hexed before he could even get a word in.

After lunch, he and Hermione decided to spend the rest of the day in the library. And then as Harry got ready to turn in for the night, the way Ron went out of his way to ignore his presence put him in a sour mood. 

But the next morning proved even more tense. Harry trekked towards the greenhouses for Herbology lessons with Ron and Hermione. Ron still wasn’t speaking to him. They walked on either side of Hermione, avoiding eye contact with each other.

Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley were already sitting at their table when they arrived. But this time the two, whom Harry normally got on very well, gave them cold looks and proceeded to only speak to one another the rest of class. However, they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry’s grip and smacked him hard in the face.

When they arrived at Hagrid’s cabin for Care of Magical Creatures, the Slytherins already had their sneers ready.

“Ah, look, it’s the champion,” Malfoy said loudly. “Got your autograph books everyone? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he’s going to be around much longer… Half the Triwizard champions have died ... how long d’you reckon you’re going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task’s my bet.” 

The Slytherins laughed. But thankfully that was the end of their taunting, because Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. He told the class they’d have to put leashes on the skrewts and take them for a walk.

“Fix the leashes roun’ the middle,” said Hagrid, demonstrating. “Er — yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus’ as an extra precaution, like. Harry — you come here an’ help me with this big one...”

Hagrid’s real intention, however, was to talk to Harry away from the rest of the class. And to Harry’s enormous relief, Hagrid didn’t believe he’d put his name in the goblet.

“You believe I didn’t do it, then?” Harry said, grinning weakly.

“ ’Course I do,” Hagrid smiled. “Yeh say it wasn’ you, an’ I believe yeh — an’ Dumbledore believes yer, an’ all.”

Later at lunch, Harry and Hermione sat with Ginny, while Ron promptly seated himself farther down with Dean and Seamus. Harry shot him a glare.

“Oh, is he still angry with you?” Ginny said, glancing at her brother. “That prat. He really needs to get over himself.”

Harry grimaced. Ginny and the twins had heard about him and Ron’s fight from Hermione. Last evening they’d even told Harry they were on his side, which he’d greatly appreciated, but he could imagine how this must’ve pissed off Ron even further.

“If only you two actually  _ talked _ to each other…” Hermione said, shaking her head. She’d tried to persuade them to speak all morning, but they’d only answered her normally and pretended the other didn’t exist.

There was only one person Harry wanted to talk to, and that wasn’t Ron. Harry glanced up at the Hufflepuff table. And as usual, he spotted Cedric surrounded by his friends. Harry chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. Maybe he’d written off Hermione's advice from earlier too soon. Maybe she was right. Perhaps he could still fix things with Cedric...

Hermione decided that she and Harry would go to the library again that evening. The two of them set off after dinner. As they walked inside, he spotted Ernie, Justin, and Hannah sitting at a table. Hermione took one look at them and steered him to the other side of the room. 

They were in the middle of a Potions essay when they heard loud chatter. He and Hermione looked up from their parchments.

Cedric and two of his friends had entered the library, laughing and being rowdy enough for Madam Pince to shoot them a nasty look as she rearranged a bookshelf. 

“Cedric! Over here!”

Ernie was waving them over. And to Harry’s great annoyance, Cedric and his friends made their way over and sat with them. The smug look on Ernie’s face made Harry’s stomach clench.

For the next half hour, Harry tried his best to ignore the group of Hufflepuffs. But that proved difficult. They would burst out into laughter every once in a while, with Ernie’s hearty chuckles and Hannah’s giggling particularly grating. But he and Hermione finally finished up and packed their things. As they stood, ready to leave, the Hufflepuffs erupted in laughter again. 

Harry clenched his jaw. Screw it. He’d made up his mind.

“You go on,” he told Hermione. “I’m gonna talk to Cedric.”

Hermione smiled. “Good luck,” she said, and with one squeeze of his arm, she left.

He straightened and peered over at the table, his heart starting to pick up speed. Harry wondered what would happen when he approached. Would Cedric even want to talk to him? 

Harry gulped. Well, there was only one way to find out.

He walked over and stopped beside the table. They all looked up at him, their smiles fading. Then each of their expressions shifted to glares, all except for Cedric, who looked slightly surprised.

“Cedric,” he said quietly. “Is it alright if I talked to you for a moment?”

“Hah!” snorted one of Cedric’s friends.

Justin smirked. Hannah giggled into her palm. Ernie on the other hand puffed out his chest pompously.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve…” he said. 

Harry ignored them and fixed his gaze on Cedric. He still seemed a bit bewildered, but he nodded, much to the disappointment of everyone else. There was a lot of grumbling around the table as Cedric rose to his feet.

Harry led the way out of the library. They stopped outside the entrance, the corridor empty besides the two of them. Harry looked up at Cedric, and suddenly realized he hadn’t actually planned on what he was going to say. He racked his brains on how to begin, but it must have taken too long because Cedric raised a brow.

“Well?” he said impatiently.

Harry flushed. “S-Sorry,” he mumbled. “I — um, I just wanted to apologize to you.”

Cedric stared.

Harry cleared his throat. “Look,” he began. “I didn’t put my name in the Goblet of Fire. The age line would’ve never let me past. Dumbledore himself did the charm and he doesn’t think I cheated, and Professor McGonagall and Moody think the same. I couldn’t trick the Goblet even if I wanted to. I don’t know who put my name in, or why, but I didn’t do it.”

Harry exhaled. There. He’d gotten it out.

But Cedric’s expression did not change. He didn’t look understanding, like Hermione had said, or even angry, like Harry’d expected. There was a coldness in those gray eyes that Harry hadn’t seen before, and the chill of it almost made him flinch.

“Right,” Cedric said slowly. His voice sounded frosty too, detached. “Okay. Well, thanks I guess.”

He started to turn, but Harry’s hand shot out without thinking. In his panic, he seized Cedric’s forearm, stopping the Hufflepuff in his tracks. 

“Wait,” Harry said. “Please.”

Cedric paused and looked at him questioningly. Embarrassed, Harry quickly dropped his arm. He looked down at the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t want to hear that. It sounds like I’m trying to make excuses for myself.” Harry inhaled deeply, gathering his courage. “And I know how this must look to everyone, like I cheated my way into something that’s rightfully yours. And they’re right. This should’ve been your moment. I know how much you wanted this. And I really wanted you to represent Hogwarts, Cedric. You deserve to be champion.” He looked up hesitantly. “I’d never take this away from you. I’m sorry.”

Cedric was staring at him still, but the steely look in his eye was no longer there. Instead he seemed thoughtful, like he was pondering something.

“So you didn’t put your name in there?” he asked after a moment.

Harry shook his head, and met Cedric’s gaze unflinchingly, hoping to convey his sincerity. 

Cedric stared down at him for a moment, considering him. Then his lips turned up slightly.

“Okay,” he said.

Harry could hardly believe his ears. “What?”

“I said ‘okay’,” Cedric repeated, his mouth twitching in amusement. “I believe you.”

“Oh,” said Harry. He exhaled sharply, then smiled. “Thanks.”

Cedric laughed softly, and soon Harry too was chuckling. And just like that, the tension between them was gone. Harry felt almost giddy with relief. It was like most of the weight that’d burdened him since the Halloween Feast had been lifted off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve believed you sooner,” Cedric said, grimacing slightly. “I guess I just assumed like everyone else that you snuck your way into the competition.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s alright. I would’ve thought the same if I were you.”

Cedric smiled. His gray eyes were warm and intimate, just as they’d been at the Quidditch Cup. 

“I’m glad we got that cleared up. It’d be a shame if we fell out over this. I actually quite liked you.”

Harry’s cheeks felt unusually warm. Cedric’s words rang in his ear.

_ I actually quite liked you. _

“I liked you too,” Harry choked out before he could stop himself. 

His face heated up immediately, his mouth clamping shut. Harry was utterly mortified at himself. What the hell kind of response was that?!

But Cedric didn’t seem to find his words strange. In fact, his smile only deepened. 

“I’m glad,” he said softly. 

There was an edge to his tone Harry could not decipher. Harry smiled unsurely up at him, uncertain about what to say next. The conversation had seemed to come to a natural end, but the way Cedric stared at him was somewhat disconcerting. He seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

They stood there for a moment, looking at one another, until they heard footsteps and looked up. It was Ernie.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. “But you’ve been out here for ages, Ced. We were wondering what happened.”

_ Liar, _ Harry thought furiously. They’d only been out here for a few minutes, but of course Ernie couldn’t help interjecting himself into the situation. 

“Sorry,” Cedric said. “I’ll be a sec.”

Ernie nodded, his eyes darting over to Harry. He was pleased to see Ernie’s expression become even stonier. The Hufflepuff turned and disappeared back inside.

“Right,” Cedric grinned, extending a hand to Harry. “I suppose I should wish you luck.”

Harry grabbed his hand, smiling. “Thanks.”

They shook hands exuberantly, and as Harry went to pull away, Cedric’s grip tightened, holding him in place. Harry paused, looking down at Cedric’s hand gripping his own before gazing back up, utterly befuddled. But he was even more startled at the sudden intensity of Cedric’s expression.

Cedric’s gray eyes were smoldering. He swiped his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand in a slow, deliberate manner, all while maintaining eye contact.

What.

Cedric was tracing light circles on Harry’s hand and looking at him with those burning eyes. And Harry felt frozen with shock. His face was surely turning bright red, his hand surely clammy. Harry’s mind felt like it was spinning. 

_ What was Cedric doing?! _

This went beyond a normal handshake. Cedric was holding his hand and caressing his skin. This was definitely queer. Cedric must know this. So why…?

Harry swallowed. The motion made his throat flex slightly. He saw Cedric’s eyes dart down to his neck before settling on Harry’s parted lips, and then flicking back up to Harry’s wide eyes. This simple move was enough to make Harry feel a bit faint.

He couldn’t stand it. That thumb stroking his hand, those intense gray eyes staring him down. A mixture of fear and excitement boiled low in Harry’s stomach.

“C-Cedric?” he gasped finally, as the seconds stretched on. 

Harry saw Cedric’s expression shift to a very self-satisfied, almost smug look. But it was quickly replaced by a deceptively innocent smile. He finally let go of Harry’s hand.

“See you,” he said.

And with that, he turned and slipped back into the library.

Harry stood there for a few seconds, mouth open. His mind felt like mush, his heart still beating out of his chest. But he slowly came back to his senses after a minute or so. Harry adjusted the bag on his shoulder and began to make his way down the empty corridor. He knew one thing for certain.

Cedric had done that on purpose.

There was no way it hadn’t been intentional. Cedric couldn’t have been more obvious with his flirting touches and the heated look in his eye. It was the sort of thing someone did to a person they fancied.

A thrill went through him at the thought, but he quickly stifled it. There was no way. No  _ way _ Cedric Diggory liked him. Cedric wasn’t a queer. Surely he hadn’t meant anything by it. 

But an insidious little voice in Harry’s head told him to stop being so ridiculous. There was no other explanation that could possibly justify what had occurred. No way blokes went around caressing each other’s skin like that. Cedric must be aware how inappropriate that was, but he’d still done it. But  _ why? _ He couldn’t actually fancy—

Harry swallowed heavily, hardly daring to believe it.

No. It was impossible. Completely preposterous. Cedric couldn’t actually fancy him, even on the off chance he too liked boys. Besides all the mystique of his past and scar, Harry wasn’t anything special. He wasn’t particularly outgoing, or skilled anywhere outside the Quidditch field, and he wasn’t good looking. He was a small, scrawny, spectacled kid with messy hair. Hardly anyone would think of him as a catch, and certainly not someone as perfect as Cedric Diggory.

But he couldn’t deny what had just occurred. Harry wasn’t all that sure if Cedric liked him, but there was definitely  _ something  _ going on. You couldn't touch someone like that and pretend it was friendly.

Harry was startled to find himself in front of the portrait so soon. He recited the password and stepped inside. Hermione was seated in an armchair in the corner reading a book. She looked up when Harry slipped into a chair beside her.

“Well?” she asked anxiously. “Did things go well with Cedric?”

“Yes,” said Harry quietly.

His expression must have portrayed his inner shock, because Hermione set down her book and looked at him with concern. 

“You alright?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, trying to reign in his emotions. “Sorry.”

“So how'd it go?”

“Good,” said Harry, relaxing into his seat. “Great, actually. He accepted my apology.”

Hermione looked pleased with herself. She was no doubt basking in the fact that she’d been right.

“I’m happy to hear that,” she said, picking up her book. “I knew you just had to talk to him. Now all you need to do is make things up with Ron.”

Later that night as he slipped into his pajamas, Harry was too deep in his thoughts to be bothered by Ron still giving him the cold shoulder. He settled onto his bed, drawing his curtains closed. He stared up at the ceiling and listened to his dormmates slowly start to fall asleep. 

He was almost certain that Cedric fancied him too. But honestly, he was still amazed by the whole thing. Even if Cedric liked boys, surely there were better options out there than Harry. Harry wasn’t ugly, but he was hardly all that attractive either. 

Or maybe...

Maybe, just maybe, Cedric had picked up on Harry’s infatuation early on, and was doing all this to mess with him. Yes, Harry thought wildly. That made more sense. There was no way Cedric actually liked him. It had to be a trick.

But no, that was stupid. Cedric wasn’t like that. He recalled how Cedric had tried to ask for a rematch last year after Harry’d fallen off his broom. Cedric was too good, too noble to pull off something that twisted. It was completely absurd. He felt a little ashamed at himself for even thinking it.

And though the thought of Cedric being interested in him was delightful, it also made Harry apprehensive. He was woefully inexperienced, having never even kissed a girl before. He didn’t have the faintest clue about dealing with another boy — an  _ older _ boy at that. And there was something about Cedric’s tall, well built physique that was inherently more intimidating than a girl could ever be. 

Besides, there was still that whole “being gay” thing Harry was hesitant about. As much as he liked Cedric, acting upon these homosexual urges was another thing entirely. He didn’t know if he could forgive himself if things continued to escalate from here. He already hated himself for liking blokes. There was no telling how he’d feel later on if he gave into temptation.

Harry sighed, pulling the covers up and closing his eyes. This was all so complicated. If only Cedric were a girl, he thought ruefully, things would be so much easier.

And yet, even though he had all these reservations, Harry was eager to find out what happened next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who likes the Hufflepuff trio, I'm sorry for making them such assholes lol


End file.
